


Regicide and Shaving His Head

by fancywaffles



Series: An Azure Dawn [8]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Birthday Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, Felix in the Dancer Outfit, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Canon, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24547876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fancywaffles/pseuds/fancywaffles
Summary: Felix goes the extra mile for Sylvain's first birthday where they are a couple.(or, yeah it's another Felix in the dancer's costume outfit fic)
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: An Azure Dawn [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654411
Comments: 13
Kudos: 160
Collections: Sylvain Week 2020!





	Regicide and Shaving His Head

**Author's Note:**

> this is just... smut, but it's sylvain's birthday so what did i expect -- come bother me on twitter at @waffle_fancy if you'd like 
> 
> technically comes after barnacle but I don't think it needs context

Sylvain’s birthdays generally… sucked (and not in the good way). It was an awkward time of year and people were too busy preparing for the Garland Moon festivities to really take any notice that he’d gained a year and that was when they _weren’t_ fighting a five-year long war. He generally didn’t mind all that much, growing up birthdays had been an inevitable countdown to him having to shackle himself to an unknown wife to continue the Gautier tradition of being the worst.

Felix was also… really, truly bad at giving presents. It was almost funny most of the time. It had started when they were younger and Felix would give him anything he’d seen someone else give, so Sylvain got a lot of flowers (which were honestly at the top of Felix’s gift giving hierarchy in terms of quality) and poorly written notes. Then he’d given him things for self-improvement, or letter writing, or the year where he _offered to train him in swords_.

This was the first year he and Felix were, well he and Felix, but Sylvain really didn’t set his standards much higher than dinner and getting laid. Which, honestly sounded like a pretty solid birthday.

But apparently, keen on topping last year’s book on how to handle feudal land disputes, Felix insisted he had something for Sylvain and had been in the other room for almost half an hour. Long enough that Sylvain was beginning to suspect he was digging around for a last minute gift. Sylvain leaned his head back over the arm of the fainting couch and rubbed his hands over his face. He was so bored. He wanted to get dinner and to skip past whatever this was.

“Feeeelix,” Sylvain said, loudly. “It’s fine if you forgot. I don’t care, but please you’re killing me, we’re going to be late for dinner.”

No response, not even a ‘fuck you’ or a ‘wait, asshole’ — silence. Sylvain sunk lower onto the fainting couch and stared up at the ceiling. He counted down from one hundred before he tried again. “You know, if you’re worried I’m not going to like it, you could just let me give you my birthday spanking.”

Still no response. Could he even hear Sylvain? Sylvain pushed himself up so that he was sitting moderately proper and tapped his fingers against his thigh. “Felix, seriously, did a dresser fall on you or something? You’re not even yelling at me.”

“It’s your birthday, I’m not going to tell you to fuck off,” Felix said through the door.

“Is that my present?” Sylvain asked, grinning now that he’d gotten a response.

“No,” Felix said, as articulate and loquacious as usual. And then the door _finally_ opened.

And Sylvain’s mouth went dry. “Holy shit, Felix,” he said, not as articulate as normal, but he didn’t know how he was supposed to be when Felix was wearing _that_. “Is that your certification costume?”

Sylvain had never gotten a good look at it. Felix had worn it _once_ for the competition (at which no one let Sylvain stand in front because _apparently_ he blocked their view) and then once for his actual certification training, but that was only a glimpse as Felix disappeared around the corner. It was… a lot more revealing than he remembered, not that he was complaining. He didn’t think he’d complain about anything ever again.

“Not all of it,” Felix said. His face was red and he was flushed down to his chest, which Sylvain could see through the draping of batiste fabric which only covered one shoulder and then dipped practically to Felix’s navel.

“Your sewing skills are extraordinary,” Sylvain said, only half kidding, because it didn’t look thrown together. Felix had even tied his hair up the same way he’d done for the competition. Sylvain tried not to think of how he could’ve seen the outfit in this state much earlier if he hadn’t been such an idiot and had realized how Felix felt, because… “Can I please ruin your hard work?”

“No,” Felix said, but beneath the awkward embarrassment was the barest hint of a smile. Whatever his plan had been, mission accomplished. “Don’t laugh,” he said.

“Felix, honestly, I’m going to swallow my tongue, you look _so_ good in that. Please let me ruin it.”

“No,” Felix said again, looking incrementally more pleased. “You kept whining you couldn’t see during the competition.”

“Oh,” Sylvain leaned back on one elbow, pressed against the armrest. “Carry on then.”

Felix was still flushed and he moved around in a way that seemed more like pacing than dancing, but at this point Sylvain was not going to tease him and risk him not doing it at all. “This is stupid without music,” Felix muttered.

Sylvain smothered the comment about having an orchestra watch this, because even as a joke, _no_ , he wanted to be the only person who ever got to see Felix in this getup, looking completely and utterly perfect. “Want me to keep a rhythm?” he offered.

Felix shook his head. He took what looked like a steeling breath and Sylvain usually only saw the kind of singular focus that took over his face when he was holding a sword. Then he started moving.

Sylvain had seen _parts_ of the dance before, but not all of it. Felix would probably hate being called graceful, but he was. Even he’d had to admit that the dancer certification had helped his sword work. Sylvain recognized the bend at Felix’s elbow as a feint he’d used to win a spar. He noticed the light footed shift to the side as a way to brace himself for a more weighted attack. Sylvain could see bits and pieces of their training and their actionable use in every move of the dance Felix did.

Felix was longer than he’d been in school, and much more muscular, it made those shorts he was wearing ride up high enough that they clenched tightly into Felix’s thighs and every glimpse of them Sylvain got was enough to make him have to clench his fists to resist dragging Felix out of the dance and ripping them off with his teeth. He’d clearly put a lot of work into it and Sylvain was appreciative of the encore performance.

Felix’s body shifted in a lithe movement that extended from the tips of his fingers to the sway of his hips, jangling the little charms on his outfit. Sylvain gave into the urge to whistle at him and the hooded, ochre eyes flicked his way before regaining that singular focus again.

Then Felix moved closer in a move Sylvain would’ve remembered in school _for sure_ and was in between Sylvain’s legs moving in the same graceful motions as earlier but more contained and close enough that his legs brushed against Sylvain’s own.

Sylvain reached out to grab him and Felix batted his hands away, which seemed a little rude since it was Sylvain’s birthday, but then Felix rolled his body in a move that Sylvain had never seen in combat and one of his perfect thighs made contact with Sylvain’s crotch.

After a bit of letting Felix move in between him (and trying to not have his eyes roll back into his skull), Sylvain reached out again, slower this time to let Felix decide and then put one hand on the jut of Felix’s hip poking up out of the drape of fabric, and the other on the woven belt with dangling silver charms making soft chimes with every move Felix made into Sylvain’s hands and against the inside of his legs.

Felix moved so sinuously and effortlessly that Sylvain almost missed the point where he transitioned from standing to hovering over Sylvain’s lap. Almost. Sylvain did not waste the opportunity to encourage Felix to straddle his lap, especially wearing _that_. Felix’s hair was infuriatingly still tied back perfectly (probably why he’d chosen that style), but that did mean the small smirk on his face was easier to see.

“Best birthday ever,” Sylvain said, sliding his hands underneath the drape of fabric over Felix’s barely covered leg so that both hands could palm over smooth skin and those tiny shorts. “How did you even get these on?” Sylvain asked, as Felix did that incredible roll again. “Actually, I don’t care, let me take them off.”

“Insatiable,” Felix said, but the slight hint of smug confidence in his voice made Sylvain’s heart soar into his throat.

“I am not responsible for my actions when you are in my lap wearing that,” Sylvain said and moved his hands again, trying to see if there was any room to wiggle his fingers into the tight seam of those impossibly small shorts Felix had on.

Felix snorted and stretched up a little so that he had to lean down while Sylvain reached up to meet in a kiss. He’d learned Felix was more impatient than him, but part of the gift must’ve been no complaints when Sylvain took his time to slide his lips over Felix’s, exploring the depth of his mouth with his tongue. Felix slipped his arms around Sylvain’s neck, easy, and languid and malleable in a way he never was in almost any other situation.

Kissing Felix and making no progress in getting into his shorts as Felix rolled his hips in that same damn impossible movement was reaching the limit of Sylvain’s patience, however, and he gave up on the shorts and palmed Felix’s ass directly. He tried pulling him closer so the roll would turn into a grind, but then Felix, lips kiss bruised and a different kind of flushed, huffed and said, “Fine.”

“Fine, what?” Sylvain had thought the answer in the affirmative was fairly obvious by his tactics.

Even Felix’s ears were pink and he was definitely not looking Sylvain in the eye as he muttered, “You can give me your birthday spanking.”

“So you did hear me!” Sylvain said, grinning and wondering at the best gift he’d ever gotten sitting on his lap.

“You thought I forgot about your birthday,” Felix pointed out, managing to look huffy and annoyed as well as embarrassed and judging by the stretched fabric around the bulge in his small shorts, aroused.

“I will never make such a heartless accusation again,” Sylvain said and kissed him again. He’d also mostly been kidding about the other thing, but Felix was _in his lap_ wearing _that._ “You sure?” he asked, between another kiss.

Felix rolled his eyes, which was as good as yes. Sylvain didn’t actually want to hurt him, but he had, on more than one occasion been overcome with the urge to smack Felix on the ass as he was walking by. He didn’t want to be murdered, so he had refrained so far. However Felix straddling his lap, in the privacy of their rooms, with blanket permission, was an entirely different story.

The first slap was nothing, which even Sylvain could have known without Felix’s unimpressed look, which spurned Sylvain on to make the second one a little harder. Felix’s hips rolled against Sylvain’s and then out again on the impact and Felix kissed him with force. Not, incredibly easy to keep count while his mouth was on Felix, but he did his best. Around five, Felix bit Sylvain’s lower lip and practically pushed his ass into Sylvain’s hand.

He’d become an expert on reading Felix in these situations and unsurprisingly, like most things, Felix liked an edge. “Still good?” Sylvain asked, because he did not want to push over the edge.

Felix dragged his fingers up and down Sylvain’s scalp and raised an eyebrow at him. “From what? I didn’t know you’d star—” Felix didn’t get the rest of the taunt out because Sylvain smacked his ass hard on six and seven.

Sylvain had been expecting to get elbowed for that or worse, lose Felix from his lap, but instead Felix bent over and buried his head into Sylvain’s neck, while he ground down into Sylvain’s lap with his own.

Sylvain would pretty much have done whatever Felix wanted at this point. He could’ve asked him to commit regicide or shave his head and as long as Felix kept grinding down on him, he would have agreed to it.So he spanked Felix over his shorts, and absolutely lost count when Felix started getting breathy near his ear and made those _fucking_ moans that took a lot of work to get out of him.

“I lost count,” Sylvain said, kneading the fleshy part of Felix’s ass while he debated the merits of crest activation to rip the shorts off him.

“Five,” Felix said, automatically and way too fast in a way that shot directly into Sylvain’s groin, when he realized he had dutifully been keeping count.

“Fuck, Felix.”

“Shut up, it’s not my fault you’re old,” Felix said, and then seemed to remember he wasn’t being rude to Sylvain for his birthday and started softly kissing Sylvain’s neck as an apology.

Sylvain groaned and his hips jerked up and at some point he was going to slide off this damn couch if he kept doing this. “That hard okay or ease up for the last five?” Sylvain asked, because he’d definitely noticed that Felix was squirming a little more while Sylvain massaged him through his shorts.

“I can take it,” Felix said, like Sylvain was challenging him to a fucking duel. He leaned back again so he could meet Sylvain’s eyes and his stare was defiant. “Go harder.”

Sylvain breathed out, sharply. He wasn’t sure if it was entirely frustration considering the offer, but… “Baby, you know when I _ask you_ if you’re okay with something that’s not a _challenge_ , I’m actually asking.”

Why did Felix’s angry face and sexy face look so similar? It was unnerving and really the source of most of his problems these days.

  
“That wasn’t a challenge either!” Sylvain added.

Felix frowned at him, which meant Sylvain was right and he’d taken it as one and then shifted his legs a little so he was less precariously perched on the edge of Sylvain’s thighs. “I’ve had worse.”

“ _Not_ an acceptable answer,” Sylvain said and now it was mostly frustration. He would’ve been more irritated if he didn’t know that Felix had at least liked most of it. Sylvain rubbed the skin where Felix’s thighs met those tiny shorts. “Your toughness isn’t up for debate, you win, you could have asked if you could stab me in the leg after that dance and I would have said yes and enjoyed it.”

“How is that better?” Felix asked frowning at him.

“Because it was a joke,” Sylvain retorted.

Felix sighed and shifted unconsciously in a way that brushed Sylvain’s crotch and made him want to roll his eyes back into his head again, and then said, like it was painful for him, “Ease up.” He huffed and then steadied himself on Sylvain’s shoulders. “These shorts were already cutting off my circulation before you started smacking my ass.”

“I would _love_ to help you out of them,” Sylvain offered, and that got a smile and for Felix to kiss him again.

It was sadly impossible to remove said shorts with Felix still straddling his lap, but the sacrifice of a few seconds off of it meant that Sylvain could help Felix pull them down when the tight fabric started rolling up and getting caught on his thighs. Less than intentionally sexy, but Felix’s erection was lifting up the fabric covering his waist now that it was freed from its prison, so effective all the same. Sylvain didn’t wait until Felix got back on his lap again and wrapped his hand around Felix’s dick, enjoying the catch of breath and bitten lip as Felix forgot what he was doing, halfway climbing back up.

Sylvain used his other hand to hoist up Felix’s other leg so he was straddling him again and then realized he was also wearing pants. “I hate clothes,” Sylvain said. “Wait no, I love clothes, I love this. I love you. I love you in this.”

Felix rocked effortlessly slow into Sylvain’s grip, with an eyebrow still raised even as the nipple Sylvain could see from said outfit was hardening to a peak with every movement. Felix hadn’t fully recovered his confidence from earlier, but Sylvain could tell it was making a comeback as he raised an eyebrow again. “What are you even saying?”

Sylvain was going to spontaneously combust. “You’ve scrambled my brain.”

“Not much to scramble,” Felix said and then winced, as he realized once again he was trying to be nice.

Sylvain couldn’t help the laugh. “Don’t push it, baby, I don’t mind when you’re a little mean to me.”

Felix huffed and that determined look was on his face again as he moved his own hand in between them to untie the laces of Sylvain’s pants. His long, and deft fingers released Sylvain’s cock from his own, much less suffocating, prison.

“Slide back a little,” Felix murmured, nudging Sylvain with the inside of his thigh.

Sylvain immediately listened, because, regicide and shaving his head. He didn’t realize what exactly Felix was doing until he was directly over Sylvain’s dick and angling his (now slightly pink) ass over it. Sylvain was ready to object that even though he’d had his brain scrambled, he was pretty sure he would have remembered if one of them had grabbed the oil and this seemed like not nearly enough prep work for Felix, when Felix started to slide down his length with a slow and steady ease that meant he’d already prepared for this.

And that’s why he took so long. “Saints alive, Felix you’re going to _kill_ me,” Sylvain said.

Felix was biting his lip, but doing his best not to muffle those breathy moans that he was usually so embarrassed by. Even as Felix’s tight, slick, self surrounded him, Sylvain couldn’t help picturing Felix in the other room fingering himself to the point where he knew he could do this, even after an entire dance number. It took pretty much all the self control Sylvain had not to jerk his hips up more than a centimeter in response.

“You could’ve let me watch,” Sylvain said, breathing hard.

“It’s not about me today,” Felix pointed out, as his fingers clenched around Sylvain’s biceps, the same time the inside of him clenched around his cock.

“Felix, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Sylvain said, as Felix sank completely down on him. “I very much enjoy watching you, you know. That’s a me thing.”

Felix moved up Sylvain’s length and then back down again a little faster than the last time. The slowness was unbearable and also exactly what Sylvain wanted, so he added his own strangled groans to the noises Felix was making. It was incredibly difficult to talk while Felix rode him up and down, hair finally coming a little loose from the way he tied it, and the modified dancer’s outfit fanning out around his thighs.

Sylvain rucked up the fabric, so he could see and feel Felix better and wrapped his hand around Felix’s cock again, matching the slow, sustained movement that Felix was maintaining. Felix bent forward towards Sylvain and rested his forehead on Sylvain’s shoulder as he swore and groaned against Sylvain’s movements either from Sylvain’s hand or the way he was inside of him. Either way Sylvain wanted to live in those noises. He bumped his hips a little, meeting Felix on the next slide down with an angled thrust that made Felix whimper.

Sylvain pressed his nose to Felix’s hair, smelled the sweet soap he used in it and the sweat from everything so far, and breathed all the quiet strangled endearments he could think of as he fucked into Felix. There were never enough words.

Felix’s short and heady breaths, followed by small noises that spun together against Sylvain’s neck as Felix turned his head towards him, were endearments of their own. He’d dressed up, danced, prepared himself, let Sylvain spank him, and wasn’t trying to hide the noises he was making out of embarrassment, because he knew Sylvain loved them. Fuck, he loved Felix.

“I love you,” Sylvain said into Felix’s hair, and then his ear, and then into his mouth as Felix straightened up enough to kiss him. The kisses were short and messy, but he didn’t really care as the overwhelming feeling of having Felix in every possible way made Sylvain come in a less than graceful jerk of his hips. Felix didn’t take much more than a few more thrusts into his hand after that and came all over his dancer skirt.

“Shit,” Felix said, with an exhausted huff of air, but weirdly steady for still having Sylvain’s softening dick inside him.“I didn’t think about that part.”

“This outfit is never leaving this fucking room, who cares,” Sylvain said, lying back on the fainting couch, like its actual purpose, because he was about to faint, and taking Felix with him so he could settle on his chest. Felix made the most perfect noise of displeasure as he released Sylvain’s dick from inside him and it made a heroic twinge at the sound, but Sylvain was going to need a few minutes at least before he continued ruining that outfit.

Felix rested his head on Sylvain’s shoulder, idly intertwining his hand with Sylvain’s and made a satisfied rumble. Sylvain was going to need a few minutes but he was going to have a list of things he wanted to do to Felix when those few minutes were up. Not that he wasn’t enjoying the completely limp and pliant Felix snuggled into his arms. Especially wearing that.

“We don’t actually have dinner, right?” Sylvain asked, as he took the tie out of Felix’s hair and undid all his hard work so he could stroke his fingers through it.

“It’s… later than I said it was,” Felix said.

“Is it _tomorrow_?” Sylvain asked. “Because you are also never fucking leaving this room.”

From what Sylvain could see of Felix’s face, cushioning itself against Sylvain’s chest and shoulder, he looked a little embarrassed. “I didn’t think you’d like it this much.”

Usually, Sylvain would be happy to have a night out with old friends, especially on his birthday, which they’d so rarely had any time to do anything for or be together during (and also Dimitri and Ingrid were equally terrible with presents), but he wanted a wyvern to eat them all so he didn’t have to move.

“Now I want to give you the last five,” Sylvain grumbled, wondering if he could move the bureau in front of the door so they didn’t have to deal with the consequences of skipping their plans.

Felix snorted and moved even closer, tucking himself completely under Sylvain’s chin. “We’re probably fine. I… uh, asked Mercedes to help me with the sewing.”

Sylvain laughed, relieved. “Oh yeah, we’re not going to dinner. No way in hell she’s expecting us.” Only Felix would be stupid enough to see that outfit and think Sylvain wouldn’t demand at least the rest of the night ruining it.

**Author's Note:**

> mercedes has to insist that everyone go on and order their food and that they'll maybe see sylvain tomorrow, dimitri takes a lot of convincing, insistent sylvain would keep his plans, but ingrid merely rolls her eyes and gets on with dinner


End file.
